


the evolution of men

by elliebell (Naladot)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 13:11:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18873862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naladot/pseuds/elliebell
Summary: Sungjin doesn’t need a Pokémon. (Detective Pikachu-inspired AU.)





	the evolution of men

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yoonbot (iverins)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iverins/gifts).



> Full disclaimer I know sooooo little about Pokémon but this was a request so here we are~

“You need a Pokémon.”

 

Sungjin looks up into Brian’s concerned, condescending face. Caught up in the glow of late evening sun streaming through the nearest window, he looks like someone out of a dream, here to impart wisdom. Fortunately, Sungjin doesn’t take advice. 

 

“No I don’t.”

 

“Everyone does! It’s like, the laws of nature.”

 

“That’s revisionist history.” Sungjin leans back in his chair, tilting his coffee cup in his hand and frowning into the coffee. “And you know it.”

 

“I know that when you had a Pokémon, you weren’t… like this.” Brian gestures to Sungjin’s entire existence while his Eevee nods in agreement. Sungjin narrows his eyes at the little bugger, not that it cares.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Mopey.”

 

Sungjin sets down his coffee cup and lets his chair fall back onto four legs with a loud clatter. “I’m not mopey.”

 

“Eevee, is he mopey?”

 

“You can’t ask your Pokémon.”

 

“Well, she agrees with me, so.” Brian shrugs like this concludes the conversation.

 

Sungjin rolls his eyes and downs the last of his coffee. “Whatever.”

  
  
  
  


 

Here’s the story, should anyone care:

 

Sungjin and Brian spent a whole summer doing nothing but catching and training Pokémon. They went all over the world, and whether or not they were  _ great _ Pokémon trainers was up for debate, but they were certainly  _ good _ , good enough for Jae Park to offer them positions at his gym, where they stayed for a few months before this  _ kid _ walked in with a bright smile and proposed the most laughable battle of Sungjin’s life: the winner kept the other’s Pokémon. Sungjin took one look at the kid and his goofy-looking Charmander and agreed. 

 

The kid and his Charmander, of course, wiped the floor with Sungjin and his Bulbasaur.

 

So now the kid, Wonpil Kim, has the Bulbasaur and Sungjin has nothing except a stable job, whoop-dee-doo, but he’s not going to get another Pokémon. His Bulbasaur looked  _ happy  _ to go with Wonpil. That’s the thing that Brian doesn’t get. Sungjin and the Bulbasaur were supposed to be together for life. More permanent than any other relationship in his life. And now if he turns on the television, he can see Wonpil and  _ his  _ Bulbasaur winning championships.

 

Sungjin doesn’t need a Pokémon.

  
  
  
  


 

“I agree with Brian,” says Dowoon, the traitor, at work the next day.

 

“Did he  _ call you _ to talk about me needing a Pokémon?” Sungjin demands, looking up from the riveting financial reports in front of him.

 

“No,” Dowoon says. After a beat, he flushes pink. “He texted.”

 

“I don’t know why this is such a big deal to you guys!” Sungjin bursts out, somehow actually startling Dowoon’s Slowpoke.

 

“Because you’re grumpy,” Dowoon says under his breath.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Because we care about your wellbeing?” Dowoon’s mouth spreads into a very fake square smile. More like a cringe.

 

“Lots of people don’t have a Pokémon,” Sungjin grumbles.

 

“But not everyone is you,” Dowoon returns.

 

Sungjin doesn’t have a comeback for that.

  
  
  
  


 

Sometimes he dreams about that summer.

 

They’d camp in fields, because the Pokémon liked it and it was cheap and they could observe wild Pokémon in their natural habitats. Brian took meticulous notes of every one they saw—ideas for battles and holistic care. Brian never did anything by halves. Sungjin, for his part, mostly just watched. Committed everything to memory.

 

He can remember everything in great detail—the golden light of a summer dusk, the rustle of a breeze in the grass, the sound of Brian’s pencil scratching against the pages of his notebook. And his Bulbasaur running free through the field, half-wild with delight. But he always returned to nestle under Sungjin’s arm before falling asleep under the spread of stars.

 

The truth is, Sungjin doesn’t need another Pokémon because he doesn’t have enough room left in his heart.

  
  
  
  


 

Sungjin’s phone rings as he’s walking home along the rain-soaked streets of Ryme City.

 

“Bob!” crows the person on the other end.

 

“I told you not to call me that,” Sungjin sighs. He kicks at a rock on the sidewalk and it goes rolling away, bumping into a Pidgey which turns and gives Sungjin a very disconcerting glare.

 

“Listen,” Jae says, “I know Pokémon battles are  _ technically _ not allowed in Ryme City—”

 

“You’ll get fined,” Sungjin says, monotone. “You’ll have to take out a loan to pay it off.”

 

“ _ But _ I just thought I’d let you know that I’m coming into the city next week. Crashing at Dowoon’s place.”

 

“Dowoon?”

 

“My Jigglypuff and his Slowpoke get along well.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Anyway, I just wanted to let you know.” Jae pauses too long for it to be meaningless. “I think you would like to be at that battle.”

 

Sungjin sighs and pulls the phone away from his ear. He stares into the neon haze in front of him, and then puts the phone back to his ear.

 

“And why’s that?”

 

“Oh, just a feeling,” Jae says, in a way that suggests it’s far more than just a feeling.

  
  
  
  


 

In the end, Sungjin goes to the stupid illegal battle arena.

 

Brian meets him at the nearest subway stop, his Eevee draped around his shoulders like a high-end scarf with eyes and opinions. Dowoon and Jae appear moments later, Dowoon’s Slowpoke in his “specially designed carrier” (read: stroller) and Jae with his Jigglypuff asleep in the hood of his jacket. Jae and Brian and Sungjin exchange greeting hugs, and as Sungjin reluctantly steps into Jae’s waiting arms, he realizes it’s been six months since he last saw Jae—and therefore, six months since he lost his Bulbasaur.

 

“Come on,” Brian says, draping an arm over Sungjin’s shoulders and pulling him along.

 

Sungjin expected the illegal battle arena to be in a sketchy part of town, but it’s actually in an abandoned high school pool. Most of the windows have been knocked out, but the school yard is large enough to prevent too much noise (or debris) from disturbing nearby neighbors, and the eerie school buildings create a solid barrier around three sides of the campus.

 

People and Pokémon mill around the pool area. Sungjin spots Nayeon and her Squirtle running drills beside Jaebum and his Snorlax, and realizes he hasn’t seen either of them in  _ ages _ , so long they might have forgotten him. He turns before he can see if they see him.

 

As he does so, he spots someone he never wanted to see for the rest of his life.

 

“Why did you bring me here?” He says in a low voice to Jae’s back. The Jigglypuff’s eyes blink back at him, slow and fearful. Jae turns, his hand going to the back of his neck.

 

“We, uh,” Jae says. “We thought you should just  _ talk _ to him.”

 

“I have nothing to say to him.”

 

“Sungjin.” Brian’s voice commands attention. When Sungjin looks up, his Eevee looks back at him, a piercing judgment in her eyes. “Just go talk to him.”

 

So Sungjin does the unthinkable, and crosses to the other side of the pool.

 

Wonpil doesn’t look up from his Charmander until Sungjin is right beside them. Then he does look up, and flushes a shade of purple.

 

“Hi,” he says, and scrambles to his feet.

 

Sungjin doesn’t say anything. He has nothing to say.

 

“Listen,” Wonpil says, and grins, apparently uncomfortable. His Charmander hides behind his legs. “I, um. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a really long time. But I couldn’t find a way to get in touch with you, and I thought you might be at a battle but you never were—”

 

“Why would you want to talk?” Sungjin shoves his hands in his pockets. “I agreed to your terms. You won. That’s the end of it.”

 

“ _ But _ ,” Wonpil says, looking like he’s about to cry. “You don’t understand! I’ve never felt so guilty in my life!”

 

Sungjin frowns, and pauses, trying to figure out where the kid is headed. “What are you talking about?”

 

“I thought I’d  _ lose _ .” He really is crying now, and clutching Sungjin’s sleeve. “I never meant to be a trainer! It all happened on accident! I just wanted to give Charmander to someone  _ good _ , who could bring out her abilities!”

 

Sungjin freezes. “What do you mean?”

 

“I’m a  _ researcher _ ,” Wonpil moans, and pulls out a business card. Sungjin takes it in his hands.  _ Wonpil Kim, Park’s Research & Conservation Center, Unova. _

 

“So…”

 

“I was traveling as part of my research grant when I found Charmander, and she’s  _ awfully  _ competitive,” Wonpil sighs, looking down at the Pokémon, “So after I’d caught her, she just wouldn’t go to anyone else, and I had the idea that maybe she would if it was all done fair and square. But you lost!”

 

His tone turns accusatory and Sungjin just stares at him, baffled. “So now…”

 

“Bulbasaur basically trained me _and_ her,” Wonpil sighs, patting Charmander on the head.

 

“And now you’re a great battle team,” Sungjin says. It’s begrudging, but he can admit it.

 

“But I don’t want to battle!” Wonpil cries out. 

 

He’s loud enough to draw the attention of people around them, who turn and give him curious looks.

 

“Well… just move to Ryme City. We’re not even supposed to hold battles here.”

 

Wonpil’s eyes widen as though this is brand new information. “But don’t the Pokémon get bored?”

 

“No, not if you get them jobs.” Sungjin nods to the Charmander, his trainer instincts kicking in automatically. “I bet she’d lay off the competitiveness if you got her the right job. You might even become friends.”

 

A look of utter relief passes over Wonpil’s face. “I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this place,” he says in a hushed voice.

 

“It’s not real popular outside this area,” Sungjin says.

 

And then Wonpil reaches into his bag and pulls out a Poké ball. “Here,” he says, a little sheepish. “He’s been a good friend to me.”

 

Sungjin doesn’t dare believe it. He watches as Wonpil turns the Poké ball and releases the Pokémon inside.

 

“Bulbasaur!” Sungjin cries out, tears of joy streaming down his face.

 

 

 

_end_.


End file.
